


somebody to someone

by katierosefun



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst and Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Sick Anakin Skywalker, Sick Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22817647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: Anakin wasn’t exactly sure what happened on Mandalore, but all he did know was that his ship had been blown up, and Obi-Wan had looked terrible. Not injured terrible—but pale face, bloodless lips, dark circles under the eyes kind of terrible.(Or after Mandalore, Obi-Wan falls ill, and Anakin is there to pick up the pieces.)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 42
Kudos: 566





	1. sun’s upset and the sky goes cold

Anakin wasn’t exactly sure what happened on Mandalore, but all he _did_ know was that his ship had been blown up, and Obi-Wan had looked terrible. Not injured terrible—but pale face, bloodless lips, dark circles under the eyes kind of terrible. Anakin hadn’t said anything, though, mostly because he didn’t get to: Obi-Wan was swept away by the Council almost immediately, and when Anakin tried to follow, he was told by a tight-voiced Windu, “these are private matters, Skywalker”.

Anakin had bristled at that, but he had taken just one look at Obi-Wan and swallowed back the angry words.

That didn’t mean he stayed away, though. Now he waited outside of the Council’s doors, silently daring the guards to drive him away. But the guards didn’t do anything, and Anakin waited for what felt like hours before Obi-Wan finally walked out.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said wearily. “Shouldn’t you be with Ahsoka by now?”

“I told her we’re taking the day off today,” Anakin replied. “She didn’t mind.” He followed Obi-Wan down the halls, waiting only for a few moments before asking, “So, are you gonna tell me what happened?”

“No,” came Obi-Wan’s response. “I’m sorry about your ship.”

“You’re getting me a new one,” Anakin said, only partially joking. He hoped that would at least stir _some_ kind of reaction from Obi-Wan, but his former master remained silent. “Obi-Wan?”

“A new one,” Obi-Wan said. “Yes.”

Anakin frowned. _That_ wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “I was just kidding,” he said. “That thing was a heap of junk, anyways.” Here was where Obi-Wan was _supposed_ to agree, but no such agreement came. Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. “What _happened_ back there?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Obi-Wan replied, and even though his tone was as mild as ever, the words still stung.

“None of my _concern_?” Anakin repeated in disbelief. He stepped in front of Obi-Wan, trying to catch the man’s eyes, but Obi-Wan kept looking away. “ _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin protested, then stopped short. He examined the dark circles under Obi-Wan’s eyes and asked, “When was the last time you slept?”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said tiredly, “don’t do this right now.” He moved around Anakin but didn’t protest when Anakin followed. They lapsed back into an uncomfortable silence. They wound through the corridors, and it wasn’t until they were standing in front of Obi-Wan’s quarters did Anakin speak again.

“I guess I’ll…leave you to it,” Anakin said, stepping away from the door. He was at least relieved Obi-Wan would be resting. “Glad that you’re back.” He pressed his lips into a semi-smile, which Obi-Wan only mirrored.

“Glad to be back,” Obi-Wan replied, and he headed into his quarters, leaving Anakin to stare at the closed set of doors.

Anakin let out a short breath and, giving the doors a resentful look, walked away.

* * *

Anakin found himself standing in front of Obi-Wan’s door again. He had spent the last few hours alternating between tinkering on his arm, fighting with dummies, and checking repairs on some fighters. But even with all the distractions, Anakin found himself thinking about Obi-Wan’s closed door. At the very least, Anakin decided as he had walked back to Obi-Wan’s quarters, he could get Obi-Wan to eat something, even if it was late.

Anakin knocked.

No response.

Clearing his throat, he called, “Obi-Wan? You in there?”

Still no response.

Anakin frowned. He stepped back, regarded the door warily. Then, after a moment of consideration, Anakin opened the door himself.

The room was dark. The shades were drawn, letting in only a faint slit of light as Anakin walked inside. But even that small amount of light was enough for Anakin to make out Obi-Wan lying on the floor.

Anakin’s heart plunged as he kneeled down next to Obi-Wan’s still form. Obi-Wan’s face was paler than before, but now Anakin could make out the faint red in his cheeks. Obi-Wan’s lips were just barely parted, letting out a loose rattle of a breath that sent a chill down Anakin’s spine. He knew those signs. Anakin cursed himself for not figuring it out before—but then again, Anakin had only ever seen Obi-Wan sick once, and that was when Anakin had been still a child. He vaguely remembered dragging Obi-Wan to the medics, being afraid as people with stern faces and hushed voices rushed around him. 

He should have _known_.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered, resting a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm. Even there, Anakin could feel the uncomfortable heat radiating through Obi-Wan’s clothes. “Come on, you gotta get up.”

For a second, Anakin was worried that Obi-Wan was too far gone to even hear him, but then Obi-Wan’s eyes cracked open.

“’kin,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Anakin said, moving his hand up to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Wanna sleep somewhere more comfortable?” Without waiting for a response, Anakin slid his hand to Obi-Wan’s back and pushed him up to a somewhat stable sitting position. His back was warm, too. Everything was warm.

“Okay,” Anakin said slowly. “We’re gonna get up now.” He wrapped his other arm around Obi-Wan’s waist and pushed themselves off the floor. Maybe he had moved them up too fast, because Obi-Wan stumbled and crashed into Anakin’s shoulder. There was a muffled groan, and Anakin winced. “Sorry, sorry,” Anakin whispered, righting Obi-Wan. Anakin turned them towards the bed in the corner of the room. “In we go.”

After seating him in the bed, Anakin lowered himself to Obi-Wan’s feet. He tugged off Obi-Wan’s boots, set them aside. Looked up at Obi-Wan. A strand of Obi-Wan’s hair had fallen in his eyes, making him look wearier than ever. Obi-Wan, who was usually so put together.

Anakin’s chest tightened. What _happened?_

“I’ll get some water,” Anakin said, standing up. He went into the refresher, filled up a cup with water. When he came back, Obi-Wan had already laid down, his back turned to Anakin.

Anakin swallowed. _Fine_ , he thought. He set the cup down on the small table next to Obi-Wan’s bed. He looked back down at Obi-Wan, at the sweat soaking through the back of his robes. Still warm, Anakin knew. Without saying anything this time, Anakin walked back into the refresher. He tugged out a cloth and ran it through with the water turned to the coldest setting.

Obi-Wan was fully asleep when Anakin came back. Anakin could tell because he could actually hear Obi-Wan’s breaths, even as shaky as they were. Careful not to wake him, Anakin rolled Obi-Wan over onto his back. He held his breath. Obi-Wan was usually a light sleeper, but this time, he didn’t stir.

With that reassurance, Anakin set the cloth on Obi-Wan’s forehead. He stilled again as Obi-Wan shivered, but his former master didn’t wake. Anakin let out a breath of relief and stepped backwards. Obi-Wan hadn’t even bothered moving the covers, so Anakin carefully draped the covers over him. He checked the chronometer on the wall. It was getting late.

As if on cue, Anakin’s comlink chirped. It sounded too loud in the too quiet room, and Anakin ducked out of Obi-Wan’s quarters. The hallways were just as quiet, but Anakin was glad for the privacy as he accepted the call.

“Hey, Snips,” Anakin said.

“You’re not still working on the fighters, are you?” Ahsoka asked by way of greeting. “Because I _really_ don’t wanna have to break you out again.”

 _One time_ , Anakin thought. “No,” Anakin replied. “I’m with Obi-Wan.”

There was a silence.

Then, “Master Kenobi’s back?”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “From Mandalore.”

“Oh. How is he?”

“Sick,” Anakin replied, looking back at the doors. “Listen, don’t wait up. I’m just gonna keep an eye on him for now—just until he’s in the clear.”

“Do you need help?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin thought about Obi-Wan’s turned back. “I don’t think more company’s a good idea right now,” he said. “It’ll be okay,” he added, already anticipating Ahsoka’s oncoming protest. “If things get _really_ bad, I’ll call you.”

“Fine,” Ahsoka said. Then, after a pause, she asked, “You don’t know what happened on Mandalore, do you?”

“No,” Anakin admitted. Then, furrowing his eyebrows, he asked, “Do you?”

“Just rumors,” Ahsoka replied slowly. “Not really sure how true they are though. Garbled messages from Lux, mostly.” Anakin had forgotten that Lux had been somewhat involved with Mandalore a while ago—even if that involvement had been with a terrorist group. “He’s not entirely sure of the situation either, but he knows about at least one of the deaths.”

Anakin’s blood ran cold. “What deaths?”

“Pre Vizsla’s dead,” Ahsoka replied. “For sure. And, um…” She hesitated. “Master Kenobi didn’t say anything?”

“No,” Anakin replied. “ _Ahsoka_ , what deaths?”

Ahsoka didn’t say anything at first. If it hadn’t been for the still-blinking yellow light on his comlink, Anakin would have thought they lost their connection. But then, her voice so soft that Anakin could have missed it, Ahsoka said, “Duchess Satine.”

* * *

_It could just be a rumor_ , Ahsoka had told Anakin, but even she didn’t sound sure. _I mean, she could just be hiding out somewhere_.

But Anakin doubted that Obi-Wan would look the way he did if Satine was just hiding out.

Anakin stayed at Obi-Wan’s bedside, alternating between bringing fresh cloths and pacing the room to stay awake. Every once in a while, Anakin would think that Obi-Wan was beginning to wake up, but every time Anakin turned around, Obi-Wan had settled back into sleep.

Anakin hadn’t known Satine all that well, but he _did_ remember her interactions with Obi-Wan. Mostly the smart-as-a-whip remarks, the cool blue eyes that only seemed to warm by the slightest degree whenever they landed on Obi-Wan. One time, Satine reached up to Obi-Wan’s beard, and Anakin distinctly remembered the light pink that had colored his former master’s cheeks even after the duchess had left. Whenever Anakin asked, Obi-Wan would direct the conversation into a different topic entirely or just stop talking altogether, leaving Anakin to think that perhaps Satine’s feelings weren’t one-sided.

If the rumors were true…

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan from where he sat. Obi-Wan’s chest rose and fell in uneven, short breaks, causing Anakin’s own chest to hurt. He didn’t even know if the makeshift compresses were working. When Anakin tested Obi-Wan’s forehead again, it was still hot, maybe even a little hotter than it had been in the first place. Anakin hissed, letting his hand drop to his side. He could get medicine. He _should_ get medicine.

Anakin stood up. He would get it now. He walked away from Obi-Wan’s side and hesitated by the door. He turned back around to Obi-Wan. “I’ll be back,” he said, and hoping that his unheard words counted enough for a promise, he headed out of the quarters.

No one ran into him as he headed down the corridors. There weren’t even any healers when Anakin reached the area. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried—maybe it was just too late that all of the healers were asleep. But Anakin knew his way around, mostly because he had spent so much of his time here.

Anakin found the fever reducing medication quickly and ducked out to the hallway. He hurried back to Obi-Wan’s quarters, medicine secured in his hand. Again, there was no one. Moonbeams lit up the hallways leading back to Obi-Wan’s quarters. Anakin suppressed a yawn. It had to be getting to early morning by now. Anakin’s eyelids were growing heavy, too. He would just administer the medication to Obi-Wan and sleep. By morning, things had to get better.

Anakin eventually reached Obi-Wan’s quarters. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Anakin headed inside. “Okay,” he breathed out. “Just gotta—” He stopped short. Obi-Wan wasn’t in his bed. “What—” he started to say, but then he heard a terrible retching from the refresher.

Anakin swore, setting the medication down on the table before sliding open the refresher door. Obi-Wan was slumped over the toilet, head resting on an arm sitting over the seat. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Anakin could clearly see the sweat beading Obi-Wan’s forehead, the bruise-colored half-moons under his eyes.

“Master,” Anakin started, but Obi-Wan was already weakly waving his arm.

“Get out,” Obi-Wan groaned. “I’m fine—”

“Like hell you are,” Anakin snapped, sitting down next to Obi-Wan. He wiped the seat off Obi-Wan’s forehead, ignoring the way Obi-Wan squirmed away from his touch. “You’re burning,” Anakin said. “I got medicine for that—”

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan mumbled, breaking away from Anakin’s hand. “I’ll just…” He gestured helplessly at the toilet.

Anakin wrinkled his nose. “Fine,” he said. “But we need to…” His voice drifted as Obi-Wan suddenly lunged for the toilet. Anakin heard another terrible noise that sounded like a cross between a groan and a cry, followed by the distant splash of what little Obi-Wan probably had in his stomach.

Anakin instinctively lifted his hand to Obi-Wan’s sweat-soaked back. Obi-Wan flinched underneath him, but he didn’t try to move away. He _couldn’t_ , Anakin realized with some grim satisfaction. As Obi-Wan shuddered over the toilet, Anakin rubbed his hand in slow circles. “Don’t force it,” Anakin said. “Breathe.”

He sat there for some time, trying to focus on Obi-Wan’s breathing instead of the vomit. He felt Obi-Wan’s shudders turn slowly into pants, and then those pants turned into quick, quiet breaths. Anakin got used to what Obi-Wan would feel like before he would start vomiting again—felt the sudden tightness in Obi-Wan’s shoulders, heard the little gasp from the back of his throat before the dry-heaving would begin. “You’re okay,” Anakin heard himself say every time. “You’re okay.” He stood up, ran another cloth under water. He knelt back down beside Obi-Wan. “Look at me.”

Obi-Wan just barely tilted his head towards Anakin. It was a small movement—a surrender, really, but Anakin took it. He wiped the cloth over Obi-Wan’s face, then stood up for a new cloth. Anakin sat back down and wiped at Obi-Wan’s mouth. Not looking at Obi-Wan, Anakin threw the cloths out. He could feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him, though, which Anakin didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed about. He decided for neither. He stood up, left the refresher. The cup of water he had left at Obi-Wan’s bedside still sat there, untouched. Anakin picked it up and returned to Obi-Wan. He handed over the cup. “Small sips.”

Obi-Wan listened, and when he was done, Anakin took the cup and set it on the sink. “How’s your stomach?”

“Better for now,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice so rough and raw that Anakin actually winced.

“Okay,” Anakin said. He re-filled the cup of water. “You still think you won’t be able to keep down the medicine?” Obi-Wan shook his head.

“Okay,” Anakin repeated. “Um…” He looked around the refresher, then looked back down at Obi-Wan. “Do you think you can take a shower? It might make you feel better,” he added quickly. “And new clothes,” he said, thinking about how the sweat had soaked through.

Obi-Wan gave a barely perceptible nod and rose to his feet, albeit shakily. Anakin moved forward, but Obi-Wan fell back against the wall just in time. “I’m fine,” he said, still not looking at Anakin.

“Of course you are,” Anakin said, and he hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic—but oh, he did, and he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, but it was too late now. “I’ll wait outside.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the refresher.


	2. clouds get heavy and start to fall

Anakin found some lighter clothes for Obi-Wan to wear—clothes Obi-Wan could probably breathe in, at least. He leaned against the wall across the refresher, listening to the run of shower water. Anakin turned to the chronometer again—they were very well into the early morning hours now. Anakin suspected the sun would rise in just a few hours from now. Still, any sleepiness Anakin had felt a little while ago had all but dissipated now. He kept seeing Obi-Wan's pale face hunched over the toilet, kept hearing that horrible breathing from deep inside Obi-Wan's chest.

The shower finally turned off, and Anakin slipped into the refresher just briefly to hand Obi-Wan his clothes. He kept his eyes turned pointedly away and slipped back outside. As Obi-Wan changed, Anakin made his way to the bed. There weren't even any sheets on yet. Anakin just barely suppressed a groan as he headed back to look for some new sheets.

Anakin had only just started to pull on the new sheets when Obi-Wan stepped out of the refresher. "Just a minute," Anakin said, unfolding one of the new sheets.

"I can do that," Obi-Wan said, stepping forward, but Anakin shook his head.

"You just…sit down," Anakin said. "I've got it."

But Obi-Wan was already moving towards the other end of the bed, dragging the new sheets over the mattress. He kept his head down, but Anakin could tell from the sluggishness of Obi-Wan's movements that he would be better off sitting aside.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said, securing the sheet over the mattress, "I told you I've got it."

"You don't have to do this for me," Obi-Wan replied. He reached for the next sheet, but before he could hold onto it, Anakin yanked it out of the way. Obi-Wan gave him a resentful look, but Anakin didn't care.

"Just…sit down, will you?" Anakin said, holding up the sheet. "You need to rest."

"I'm not an invalid," Obi-Wan replied.

"I didn't say you were," Anakin said. "I said you needed rest." He folded the sheet over the mattress and made his way around the bed to tug on the last bits of cloth. When he was done, Anakin straightened himself in front of Obi-Wan. He gestured towards the bed. "All yours."

Obi-Wan regarded Anakin warily. "You should go," he said quietly.

"And leave you alone?" Anakin snorted. "Good luck. I'm taking a shower." With that, he headed into the refresher. He didn't care if he didn't have a change of clothes—he just needed to get the smell of vomit off him. Anakin made quick work of washing himself, which wasn't difficult because the water was freezing, anyways. When he stepped back outside, Obi-Wan had at least sat down on the bed, which Anakin took as a sign of progress.

"This is where you sleep now," Anakin said, sitting on a chair across from the bed.

"And you?"

"Not your concern." That was a low blow, and Anakin knew it, but he couldn't help himself. He looked away before the words could sink in and added, "I'm not tired. So you just…go to sleep." He kept his eyes trained on a corner of the room. Eventually, though, from the corner of his eye, Anakin saw Obi-Wan lie down. Anakin kept staring at the corner, though, until he heard Obi-Wan's breaths even out again.

That was when the tiredness finally hit Anakin. He sank to the table, resting his head on folded arms. He told himself he would stay awake for at least a little while longer, just in case Obi-Wan would wake, but then Anakin was sinking into sleep.

* * *

Anakin wasn't sure what woke him up first: the thrashing or the moaning, but whichever it was, Anakin jerked himself up from the table to find Obi-Wan twisting in the sheets.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin called, pushing himself off the chair. Heart pounding hard in his chest, Anakin looked down to find Obi-Wan's brows knit together, lines appearing on his face in the strain. Another low moan escaped Obi-Wan's lips, deep and keening that seemed to reverberate through the room.

"Master," Anakin tried again. He grabbed one of Obi-Wan's wrists, registering the heat with some more alarm. He perched himself on the bed and took hold of Obi-Wan's other wrist before it could hit something. "Obi-Wan, wake _up_."

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open, and he jerked upright, just barely missing Anakin's forehead. "Hold on," Anakin said, reaching up to Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Obi-Wan?"

Breaths that sounded more like gasps tore from Obi-Wan. Anakin could feel the panic in him, pulled tight and taut like a tripwire. Obi-Wan's eyes were glossy with fever, not quite focused and still crazed, and if Anakin hadn't seen that look in soldiers before (if it hadn't been for _Obi-Wan_ ), Anakin would have backed away.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said again. "Come on—stay with me."

Obi-Wan swallowed. "I—" He lifted his eyes up to Anakin, and only then did the confusion seem to settle in. "Anakin." He glanced down at Anakin's hands still placed on his shoulders. "I woke you."

"You seemed like you were having a bad dream," Anakin said, letting his hands drop from Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I had to wake you."

Obi-Wan hung his head. "I see," he said quietly. He pushed a hand up to his face. "I'm sorry. You should—"

"Don't tell me to leave," Anakin warned. He dragged Obi-Wan's hand away from his face, placed his own hand against Obi-Wan's forehead instead. Frowning, Anakin said, "You're still warm." He stood up. "Don't want to risk you throwing up again, so I'll just get some cold cloths. We have to get that fever down." He paused. "Unless your stomach's feeling up to it." When Obi-Wan shook his head, Anakin headed for the refresher. He returned with the cold cloths and crouching by the bed, he pressed one to Obi-Wan's forehead, his other hand supporting Obi-Wan to stay upright.

"What were you dreaming about?" Anakin asked at last, flicking his eyes up to Obi-Wan.

"I don't remember," Obi-Wan replied, but Anakin knew that was a lie.

"Sounded pretty bad," Anakin said, dabbing at Obi-Wan's forehead. He sat on the bed for better support. "And painful."

Obi-Wan didn't say anything. Anakin felt some frustration well up inside his chest, but he forced it down. It wasn't fair— _this_ wasn't fair for Obi-Wan. But at the same time, Anakin wanted to shake Obi-Wan, tell him to _talk_ , because that stupid silence wasn't going to _help_.

"Just keep this in place," Anakin said, letting Obi-Wan sink back into bed. "I'll change it once it starts to get warm."

"And you'll do that by…"

"I'll set an alarm," Anakin said. He sat back down in his chair. "Don't worry." He rested the side of his head against a propped up fist. His head was starting to ache from the lack of sleep now—a dull, semi-bothersome throb that always crept in during the beginning stages of exhaustion. Still, Anakin tried to keep his eyes open. "I'm staying."

"Stubborn," Obi-Wan murmured, his eyes closing.

"You should talk," Anakin replied. He pulled away his fist and leaned back against the chair instead, turning his eyes up to the ceiling. He closed his eyes briefly and snapped them back open. _Focus_ , he thought, but it was getting difficult. If it hadn't been for the quiet alarm going off every hour or so, Anakin wouldn't have even known how much time had passed. For a while, it was only that alarm that kept Anakin moving.

When Anakin finally re-focused, Coruscant's morning rays were starting to peek through the drawn shades.

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. Ahsoka would probably still be asleep, and she'd probably be confused when she woke up to realize that Anakin hadn't come back at all during the night. He'd have to call her later and update her on the situation. In the meantime, Anakin set himself back to pacing. He checked the fever reduction medication—just a few tablets should do the trick, if Obi-Wan was feeling up to it.

Anakin sat back down at the table. He let his head sink back into his arms. His eyes drifted back to Obi-Wan. There seemed to be more color in his face now, although whether that was actually the case or just the sunlight, Anakin couldn't be certain. He considered paying another trip to the healers—maybe there was someone more competent who was awake, but every time Anakin considered stepping out of Obi-Wan's quarters, his blood ran cold at the idea of leaving Obi-Wan alone—which was stupid, because Obi-Wan was a grown man and could take care of himself, but Anakin hadn't ever actually heard Obi-Wan have nightmares.

Anakin hadn't even thought Obi-Wan was capable of having nightmares. Or night terrors. There were times when Obi-Wan had trouble sleeping—Anakin knew _that_ for certain. He knew there were nights when it was both just Obi-Wan and Anakin awake because they couldn't shake off the adrenaline or the unease that something was coming. He knew there were nights when Obi-Wan tossed and turned before finally sinking into some form of sleeping. But Anakin hadn't ever seen Obi-Wan like _that_ : small. Scared. Vulnerable.

 _Vulnerable_ , Anakin thought, looking back at Obi-Wan. He registered the little lines between Obi-Wan's eyebrows as his former master rolled over in his sleep. The cloth slid off briefly, causing Anakin to move forward. It was time to switch the cloth, anyways. Anakin switched out the compresses—but instead of returning to his chair, Anakin only sat down on the ground, right by the bed. He rested his head against the side of the mattress.

 _Just until morning_ , Anakin thought. Obi-Wan would have to get better by the morning.

The gentle knock on the door was what snapped Anakin out of his half-nap. He stumbled towards the door, and, checking that Obi-Wan hadn't woken, Anakin stepped outside. He cringed at the sudden flood of white lights and, once adjusting to the sudden brightness, Anakin looked down at Ahsoka.

"You look terrible," Ahsoka said.

"Thanks," Anakin said, rubbing his eyes. "I haven't gotten a whole ton of sleep."

"I can tell," Ahsoka said. She held up a stack of containers, all wrapped up in a large cloth. "I swung by Dex's this morning," she said, passing the containers to Anakin. The warmth seeped straight through Anakin's gloves. "Some soup. Other hot foods. Just because I figured you guys needed it. And your datapad, in case you needed some distraction." Anakin felt a sudden surge of gratefulness for his apprentice.

"Thanks," Anakin said, meaning it.

Ahsoka smiled back. "You're welcome," she said. She craned her neck over Anakin's shoulder, even though Anakin knew Ahsoka would only be looking at a closed door. "How is he?"

"It's hard to say," Anakin replied, looking over his shoulder briefly. "He's still too warm." He lifted up the containers. "The food will probably help, though." He turned back around to the door briefly, swung back to Ahsoka. "Did you want to stop in, or…"

Ahsoka grimaced. "Wish I could," she said. "But Barriss wanted to show me something. And it's been a while since I've last seen her, so…" She gave Anakin a sad smile. "Maybe later?"

"We're not going anywhere," Anakin replied. "Go relax."

"Thanks," Ahsoka said. She took a step backwards and added, "Call when you need help."

"You mean _if_ I need help," Anakin quipped, but Ahsoka gave him an odd look that Anakin couldn't decipher right away. But then Ahsoka was walking away, and when Anakin looked down the hallway, he saw that the familiar hooded figure of Barriss Offee was already waiting for her. For the first time in what felt like ages, Anakin felt a smile tug at his lips. He was glad that his apprentice had at least someone else to talk to during this brief break.

With that reassurance, Anakin headed back into Obi-Wan's quarters. He was relieved to find that at least this time, Obi-Wan had stayed in bed. Still, he stirred as the door slid shut behind Anakin.

"Morning," Anakin said, setting the containers down on the table. "Ahsoka brought food." He pulled up a chair by Obi-Wan's bedside. "You should probably have something."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. To Anakin's relief, they focused on him faster than earlier that morning. "I'm not hungry," Obi-Wan mumbled.

"You need to have _something_ ," Anakin said. He didn't want to think about the last time Obi-Wan ate something. "There's soup." Without waiting for another protest, Anakin took out one of the containers. He popped open the lid and sat back down next to Obi-Wan. "At least have some of this."

"I don't—Anakin—"

"Just _eat_ ," Anakin said, forcing the container into Obi-Wan's hands. "Okay?" He waited, arms folded across his chest, until Obi-Wan finally took a sip. Slowly but steadily, about half the container was drained before Obi-Wan set the soup aside. Anakin decided to take that as a victory.

"Okay," Anakin said, standing up. "Probably not a good idea to lie back down right now." He turned to the refresher and looked back at Obi-Wan. "Do you want to wash up?" Anakin already knew the answer, even before Obi-Wan slid out of bed.

Anakin also anticipated the stumble before Obi-Wan did, and he just grabbed ahold of Obi-Wan's arm before he could fall over. "Careful," Anakin only said.

"How embarrassing," Obi-Wan murmured, causing Anakin to roll his eyes.

"You're human," Anakin found himself saying. "No one will hold that against you." He wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan's waist. "You got it?"

Obi-Wan gave a small nod, and the two headed towards the refresher. After the door slid closed, Anakin turned to the containers sitting on the table. Ahsoka had brought enough food for the two of them, but Anakin wasn't hungry. He picked up the containers and stored them away in a compartment. He had just closed the compartment door when Obi-Wan stepped back out. He looked better, just tired—but again, Anakin couldn't tell if Obi-Wan was really any better or if it was just the dim room.

"You're not eating?" Obi-Wan asked, nodding at the compartment.

"I'll eat later," Anakin replied. He led Obi-Wan back to the bed, but his former master didn't lie down. He looked tired, though—Anakin noted the slumped shoulders, the dark half-moons still under Obi-Wan's eyes.

"You look tired," Anakin said aloud.

"I could say the same of you," Obi-Wan replied.

"I didn't just come back from a mission," Anakin said, and he stopped. Obi-Wan was already looking away. "Master—"

"Don't—" Obi-Wan's voice was so weak, Anakin stopped short. " _Please_."

Anakin swallowed. "Fine," he said, even though the questions were already burning up his throat, his mouth. "I won't ask." He looked down at the ground. "I…heard," he said at last. "Some things." He heard a sharp intake of breath from Obi-Wan. Anakin kept his eyes turned down. "Don't know if they're rumors, but if they're true…" Anakin lifted his head up. Obi-Wan had fully turned away. "I'm sorry," Anakin said quietly.

Anakin felt pain—not his, he realized with a sinking heart, but still familiar. The Force only ever allowed Anakin to actually feel Obi-Wan a few times, whether that was the Force or Obi-Wan's own doing, Anakin wasn't always so sure, but now Anakin knew. He could feel the shields drop, fast and hard and heavy, and then all Anakin felt was a sharp, throbbing pain in his own chest that had nothing to do with his own emotions.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said, and he sat down next to Obi-Wan. He lifted his arm and hesitated. All previous touches had been different—those had been necessary, and even then, Obi-Wan had reacted, but right now, Obi-Wan looked so small and alone that Anakin let his arm drop on Obi-Wan's shoulders.

Anakin waited to be pushed away, for Obi-Wan to say something, but nothing came. "I'm sorry," Anakin repeated, and then Obi-Wan's head was falling against his shoulder, and Anakin felt small trembles shake Obi-Wan's whole body. Anakin swallowed and lifted his face to the ceiling as they sat together like that, the sunrise slowly lightening the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, I just feel like Obi-Wan deserves some physical touch? As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated! Next update will probably be on Monday.


	3. somebody to call my own

Anakin let his arm drop from Obi-Wan’s shoulders to his back instead. He found himself rubbing circles into Obi-Wan’s back again—gentle and slow movements, just enough to keep Obi-Wan from shaking. Anakin felt Obi-Wan inhale, and for a second, he wondered if _this was it,_ this was when Obi-Wan would pull away, but instead, Obi-Wan murmured, “Where did you learn to do that?”

Anakin faltered. He almost stopped moving his hand entirely, but something in Obi-Wan’s voice forced him to keep going. “My mother,” he said, his voice coming out hoarser than he had anticipated. He dropped his eyes to his lap as Obi-Wan shifted under him. “She—well. I’d get sick sometimes.”

“I see.” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet, so quiet that if Anakin hadn’t been listening, he would have missed them.

“Yeah, well,” Anakin muttered. He slowed his movements, let his hand sit at the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. Still warm. Anakin frowned. He had hoped that the fever would break by now. “Let’s see if you can stomach some medicine now.”

Anakin rattled out a few pills from the bottle into his palm. He swiped up the cup of water from the table and handed both medicine and water to Obi-Wan. After Obi-Wan took the medicine, Anakin asked, “How’re you feeling?”

Obi-Wan at least had the energy to give Anakin a wry smile. “The medicine doesn’t work that fast.”

“I _know_ ,” Anakin said. “But do you think you can keep the medicine down?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

Anakin let out a breath of relief. “Okay,” he said. “Good.” He settled back down next to Obi-Wan. “Do you think you could eat more?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I’d rather sleep,” he replied, rubbing at his eyes. He turned to Anakin. “You should, too.”

“I’m not tired,” Anakin said. He pushed himself off the bed. “You sleep. I’ve got some work to do, anyways.” He gestured to the datapad sitting at the table. “I’ll keep myself busy.” 

Obi-Wan hesitated. Anakin knew his former master probably wanted to argue, but Anakin walked to the table before Obi-Wan could say anything. “Just…get some sleep,” Anakin said, already activating the datapad. He didn’t look up as he tapped open an application. “Let the medicine work its magic.”

“No such thing,” Anakin heard Obi-Wan mumble, but when Anakin lifted his head, Obi-Wan had at last settled back into bed. Anakin let his head drop back down to the datapad. He lowered the volume all the way so as to not disturb Obi-Wan, and he flicked through blueprints of fighters until his eyes glazed over.

* * *

Obi-Wan was shivering.

Anakin checked for more blankets, but there were none. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Anakin turned back around to Obi-Wan. He was already heaped on with the covers, and yet, even despite it all, Obi-Wan shook as though they were on an ice planet instead of just his quarters.

Anakin pressed his hand against Obi-Wan’s forehead and cringed back. Too hot. Too hot. But _how_ —Anakin had given Obi-Wan the fever reducers, hadn’t he? He should be getting better. Anakin considered calling for the healers again, but before he could move, a low moan interrupted his thoughts.

Anakin instantly settled back down to Obi-Wan’s side. “Right here,” he said, setting his hand down on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Cold,” Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes opening slightly. He rolled over on his side so that he was fully facing Anakin. “ _Too much_ —”

Anakin’s chest tightened. “I know,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry.” He started to stand up. “You’re too warm. I’ll get—”

“ _No_ ,” Obi-Wan protested, and faster than Anakin could even process, Obi-Wan’s hand had shot out and grabbed Anakin’s wrist. “Don’t.”

Anakin looked helplessly at the door. “Master,” he started to say, but Obi-Wan tugged at his wrist _hard_ , much harder than Anakin had expected his bedridden master to be capable of. Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan, half-exasperated and half-bewildered by the sudden forcefulness. “Master,” Anakin repeated, but then he looked down at Obi-Wan, and the argument he already had building in his head started to dissolve.

“Stay,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Please.”

 _Delirious_ , Anakin thought. Obi-Wan was delirious.

But Anakin swallowed, lowered himself to Obi-Wan’s side. “Okay,” he said. He lifted up his wrist, looked at Obi-Wan’s hand still so tightly wrapped around it. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Obi-Wan nodded. And then, as fast as Obi-Wan had grabbed Anakin’s wrist, his hand dropped to the side of the mattress. Anakin saw that Obi-Wan’s hands were shaking, became even more painfully aware of how the shivering had turned into full-blown tremors. Anakin wished he had more blankets. Anakin wished he knew more about healing. Dressing a wound, he knew. Dealing with broken ribs, a bullet wound, shrapnel to the limbs, Anakin knew all of that from spending too much time on the field. But using the Force to heal—that was something out of Anakin’s expertise completely. Obi-Wan had always been better at it. One time, Anakin remembered how he had gotten burned by something—he couldn’t remember the details, just a vague memory of a workshop or a garage and something buzzing into his arm. He remembered Obi-Wan at his side in an instant, remembered how the pain slowly leached away before setting on a bandage.

Anakin pressed his lips together. For once in his life, he wished he had bothered to listen to Obi-Wan when he tried to teach him that trick.

But right now, Obi-Wan was shivering too hard, and Anakin didn’t know what to do.

Anakin stood up. “Move over,” he said, taking off his boots. To his surprise, Obi-Wan rolled over on his side. Anakin slid into the bed, careful not to move Obi-Wan any more than he had to. He could feel the unbearable heat of Obi-Wan’s whole body, but still, Obi-Wan shivered.

Anakin closed his eyes briefly and hoped that Obi-Wan would be so delirious as to not remember what he was going to do next. He wasn’t sure his master’s pride could take it.

Still, Anakin rolled over on his side and wrapped a tentative arm around Obi-Wan’s side. He felt Obi-Wan’s breaths stutter, heard a quiet, “Anakin…” as Anakin pulled Obi-Wan against his chest.

“Stop shaking,” Anakin only said. “You have to.” Before he could think better of it, Anakin rested his forehead against Obi-Wan’s back, the heat burning right through his clothes onto Anakin’s skin. He heard another sharp breath, but then he felt Obi-Wan relax. One heartbeat, two, three later, Obi-Wan sank deeper into the bed, his own hand just barely brushing against Anakin’s.

With that, Anakin called out to the Force. He tried to remember what Obi-Wan had done—just remembered Obi-Wan’s touch on his arm, remembered the brief feeling of pain melting away. Anakin closed his eyes. _Come on_ , he thought. _Come to me_.

Obi-Wan’s breaths started to even out. The chills started to ease, and Anakin felt a dizzying mixture of relief and satisfaction in the slow withdrawal of everything that had so wrecked Obi-Wan’s body. _Come on_ , Anakin thought again. _Almost there._

He felt something sharp stab at his head—not Obi-Wan, not the fever’s heat, but something else. Anakin pushed past the unpleasant feeling, concentrated instead on the shivering. “Come on,” Anakin said aloud, and then Obi-Wan fell limp in Anakin’s arm, and Anakin heard nothing but steady breathing.

Anakin opened his eyes. Dots speckled his vision, and for a moment, Anakin was confused about whether he was standing up or still in bed. He felt for Obi-Wan’s fever—he was cooler now. Anakin smiled to himself and promptly sank into sleep. 

* * *

“What have you done?”

Anakin blearily opened his eyes. Obi-Wan’s face was swimming above him, and when Anakin blinked, he could make out the worried eyes, the furrowed brows. Anakin tried to smile, but a sharp pain stabbed through his head, causing him to wince instead.

“How d’you feel?” Anakin asked. Or slurred. Anakin’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Everything felt heavy, including his own head. Still, Anakin dragged up his hand, tried to reach for Obi-Wan, but his master took Anakin’s wrist and set it back down.

“ _I’m_ fine,” Obi-Wan said. “But you—” Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s hand on his face, and without meaning to, he pushed himself up to catch more of his touch because Obi-Wan’s hand was _warm_ , and Anakin was _cold_ —

Ah. So _that’s_ what happened when Anakin tried to use the Force to heal. He hadn’t known about this part.

“You need a healer.”

“Mm, that’s what _I_ said,” Anakin mumbled. He felt Obi-Wan’s hand moved away, and Anakin let out a disproving whine.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said, and he _did_ sound sorry, but Anakin didn’t care, because he just wanted that warmth to _come back_ —

But Obi-Wan was getting off the bed, reaching for something out of Anakin’s field of vision. Then Obi-Wan returned with water. “Drink,” he said, “and then we’ll get you to the healers.”

“Don’t want healers,” Anakin said, jerking his head away. “Don’t need—” He was cut off by Obi-Wan slowly pushing him up. “Get _off_ ,” Anakin said, trying to get out of Obi-Wan’s grip, but his master’s strength had returned, and with it was the sternness that was so familiar that even in his own state, Anakin didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.

But he let Obi-Wan lift the cup to his lips, let the water dribble down his throat until he couldn’t anymore. Anakin broke away, weakly pushing at Obi-Wan’s arms, his chest. _Stop_.

“Come now,” Obi-Wan said. “You need medical attention. There are perfectly good healers waiting—”

“That’s what _I_ said,” Anakin repeated. He shoved at Obi-Wan’s chest again, and this time, Obi-Wan at least swayed backwards. “But _you_ didn’t want them, so _I_ don’t have to.”

“Faulty logic,” Obi-Wan said. “ _Incredibly_ faulty.”

“You’re faulty,” Anakin mumbled, falling back into the bed. He closed his eyes, trying to pin down the pounding in his head. He became suddenly too aware of how much everything hurt—his legs, arms, chest…Anakin felt like he was breathing in molten lava every time he took a breath, even though everything else felt too cold.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “We have to take you to the proper care.”

Anakin only rolled over on his side. He meant it as an act of defiance but nope, that was the wrong move, because he suddenly felt a terrible pitching sensation in his stomach, and then Anakin was rolling back over, forcing himself off the bed, stumbling—his damn legs were already giving out from under him—and too late, Anakin let go of the sick already roiling in his stomach.

“ _Anakin_ ,” Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s arms hook around him as he almost toppled forward. “Here.”

Anakin was led to the refresher, and he just only managed to get more of his vomit into the toilet before sinking down to his knees. Despite himself, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes because everything _hurt_ , and he was colder than _ever_ , and his _chest_ —

He became semi-aware of Obi-Wan’s hand patting his back. “I should have known,” he heard Obi-Wan murmur, and Anakin wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that, but he didn’t have enough brain capacity to actually parse apart Obi-Wan’s words, because another wave of nausea roiled over him.

“Stop,” Anakin gasped finally, hunching over the toilet. “I can’t—” He fell backwards on his heels, let his head fall to shaky hands. A low groan tore from his throat, and Anakin tasted sour bile in his mouth. He was distantly aware of Obi-Wan getting up. He heard the rush of water, and then Obi-Wan re-appeared with a cup in his hand.

“Drink and spit,” Obi-Wan instructed. Anakin didn’t bother arguing. He spat into the toilet and, after setting the cup down on the floor, Anakin could only stay on his heels in the cautious way that anyone with a weak stomach would.

“You used the Force to heal me,” Obi-Wan said at last. “Didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Maybe,” Anakin said. Even though he had just had water, his voice came out strangled, too low and deep for even Anakin’s own ears. “Didn’t know what else to do.” He slid away from the toilet, let his head fall back against the wall. “You were…” He looked at Obi-Wan, his words drying up.

Obi-Wan looked much better now, with the color returned to his face and the dark circles under his eyes lightened, but the slump in his shoulders remained. The pain, Anakin felt from before, still hummed within Obi-Wan, even as quiet as it was.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, and Anakin withdrew.

“Sorry,” Anakin mumbled, dropping his chin against his chest. “Didn’t mean to.”

There was a silence between them, and for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds were the faint drip of the water hitting the sink.

Anakin shivered. He hadn’t meant to, but he was still cold. Obi-Wan sighed. “Let’s get you to the healers.” Before Anakin could protest, Obi-Wan started to pull Anakin up to his feet. Anakin grunted as the floor spun briefly underneath him, and then he felt Obi-Wan at his side.

“Lean,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin wordlessly fell against Obi-Wan. He let his arm be guided around his former master’s shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Anakin mumbled. He looked at Obi-Wan. “’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Obi-Wan said, already leading Anakin out of the refresher.

“No,” Anakin said, insistent. He tried to keep eye contact with Obi-Wan, but everything was making it difficult for him to focus now. “I’m _sorry_. You shouldn’t have gone through that alone.” He saw something flicker across Obi-Wan’s face. Stop. Anakin should stop now, but the words were stumbling over each other, and Anakin couldn’t stop them. “She _loved_ you, and you—’

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupted, his voice taut. “We’re not talking about this.” They were out of Obi-Wan’s quarters now.

“Then when are you?” Anakin asked. He gripped Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “You keep _pretending_.”

He felt Obi-Wan stiffen underneath him. Too far. Anakin had gone too far. And yet, Anakin found himself waiting for a response. And for a moment, Anakin actually thought he would get a response—but then Obi-Wan was turning away.

“We’re here,” was all Obi-Wan said.

* * *

Anakin wasn’t sure what the last hours really were. All he knew was that he was suddenly laid out on a bed, and then he heard the quiet murmurs of Obi-Wan and the healers, and Anakin could only focus on Obi-Wan’s voice through it all.

Anakin opened his eyes once. He saw Obi-Wan sitting beside him, and he looked so sad and alone that Anakin wanted to reach out, but he couldn’t because he didn’t have the strength, and he wasn’t even sure if such a gesture would be welcome.

* * *

“How is he?”

“He’s getting better. Gave us quite the scare earlier. You aid he tried to heal you through the Force? He might have absorbed your ailment instead.”

A weak laugh. “Yes, well, Anakin always had a knack of getting ahead of himself.”

“It would seem so. You’ll be pleased to know that his fever has gone down. All he needs now is to stay hydrated for the next few days.”

“Thank you, Madame Che.”

“Of course.”

Anakin opened his eyes just in time to see the master healer walk away from Obi-Wan. His former master’s head hung low, his eyebrows knitted together in that typical worried expression of his. Anakin would have laughed if he could.

“Master,” Anakin opted to say instead.

Obi-Wan turned quickly. “You’re awake,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

Anakin groaned, slowly pushing himself up by the elbows. Obi-Wan moved forward and then halted to a quick stop as Anakin sat up. Anakin pretended not to notice. “Like someone hit me with a speeder. Slowly.” At Obi-Wan’s quizzical look, Anakin translated, “Better.”

“That would probably be because Che was able to reverse the effects of the stunt you pulled,” Obi-Wan replied. He hesitated, and then, sitting down next to Anakin, said, “That was dangerous. Things could have gone badly.”

“But they didn’t,” Anakin replied. He leaned back against the propped up pillow. “See? I’m still breathing.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” Anakin asked sharply. Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look at him. “It wasn’t a _stunt_.”

Obi-Wan stilled. “Anakin,” he said wearily, “you didn’t have to do that for me. You shouldn’t have. Because of that, you got hurt.”

“Yeah, well,” Anakin said, looking away, “that didn’t bother me.” He curled a fist around the corner of one of the sheets. “You were sick. _Really_ sick. The medicine wasn’t working, and you couldn’t get to the healers, so I did what I could.”

“Anakin—”

“You told me to stay.” Anakin turned around to face Obi-Wan. His former master, to Anakin’s relief, didn’t look away. “Do you remember?”

One moment passed. Then another.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan paused. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe,” Anakin replied. He twisted at the edge of the sheet again. “But you shouldn’t have to be alone, either.” He let his words hang in the air, let the implication sit there between them. Anakin lifted his eyes up to Obi-Wan again, half expecting that same frustratingly passive face, but no—that wasn’t it. Far from it. Anakin only just saw the faintest glisten of tears—actual _tears_ —before he started to sit up.

“Master?” Anakin ventured quietly, ignoring the dull ache in his limbs as he moved forward. “Wait—hey—” He reached out, hesitated for a moment, and then let his hand rest on Obi-Wan’s arm. He wondered if Obi-Wan would jerk away, but nothing of the sort happened.

Wordlessly, Anakin pulled himself forward just in time to catch Obi-Wan’s head on his shoulder. The strength seemed to seep out of Obi-Wan at that moment, and Anakin felt his former master slump against him in the way that Anakin knew only resulted in too much grief in a too short time.

Then Obi-Wan was trembling ever so lightly against Anakin, and Anakin felt something wet against his shoulder. There weren’t any sounds except for Obi-Wan’s quiet, shaky breaths—not even a full cry, and Anakin knew he wouldn’t be hearing one.

Anakin let his head fall against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. _I’m sorry_ , he wanted to say, but he knew that Obi-Wan already knew. He let his other hand skirt over Obi-Wan’s back for a moment, hesitated again, but Obi-Wan was trembling, and Anakin dropped his hand against the center of Obi-Wan’s back.

 _Don’t do this alone_ , Anakin thought. Pleaded. _You don’t have to do this alone._

Obi-Wan shifted against him. “I’m sorry,” he said roughly. “I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” Anakin said, but he loosened his hold on Obi-Wan—only Obi-Wan stayed. “Really.”

Obi-Wan breathed in. Anakin heard it, felt it. “You know I can’t…I wasn’t even _supposed_ to be at Mandalore.”

Anakin paused. He hadn’t known that part. The thought ached him even more—the idea of his master, so rigid and firm in his belief about the way of the Order, actually still going to Mandalore? “But you did.”

“I did.” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked, and Anakin instinctively adjusted himself as Obi-Wan’s forehead slid down Anakin’s shoulder. “She’s gone.”

“It’s not your fault,” Anakin said quietly, because he knew that guilt too well—felt it too often, and he couldn’t stand to see Obi-Wan carry that additional burden. He settled his hand on Obi-Wan’s back again. Let it move in its familiar circles, felt Obi-Wan’s tremors fade into a gentle shiver.

Anakin lifted his head from Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The sun was setting outside, causing shadows to lengthen across the hall. Anakin watched Obi-Wan and his shadow slowly spread across the floor—shadows entwined around each other in this quiet room, in this quiet temple, in this loud planet, in this loud galaxy.

And through it all, Anakin held Obi-Wan.

_-fin-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support! I was excited to have this fic as the first one of 2020, because I just miss these two so much. (And those feelings were only intensified when I listened to Someone to You by the Banners, because...wow, what a good song for them???)
> 
> As always, comments/kudos are always appreciated!!

**Author's Note:**

> t's been a hot second since I've written something Obi-Wan and Anakin centric, but here we are. Planning for this sick!fic to be about three chapters, so hope ya'll are willing to go on this roller coaster ride with me! In my head, this takes place briefly after the mess on Mandalore, so um...we're really heading there. Also figured it was a good time to post because TCW is really coming back tomorrow, and I'm not ready.
> 
> As always, reviews/constructive criticism are always welcome and appreciated! Next update will come on Saturday!


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